


Mouth Open (1-2-3)

by flightspath



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Finger Sucking, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:01:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25275850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightspath/pseuds/flightspath
Summary: Adam takes it in, looks at Ronan’s open face again. There’s a flush of sweat beading at his hairline, and Ronan’s brow is smooth and unfurrowed. He looks peaceful. He looks filthy. He’s holding his mouth open, soft and wanting.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 36
Kudos: 317





	Mouth Open (1-2-3)

**Author's Note:**

> It's porn! It's porn. Don't get distracted, it's just fucking porn.

**September.**

The first time Ronan visits Gansey in Cambridge, Adam steers clear. He and Gansey are more roommates than friends, and he doesn’t want to intrude on the two of them catching up, and also Ronan ducks into their shitty grad student housing and looks-- not how Adam expected.

Adam’s face doesn’t change because he’s used to this, and there are a lot of things he wants and can’t have. He just shakes Ronan’s hand and nods cooly at Gansey and then hides out in the library as long as he can stand it. 

It’s past 2 when he gets back and finds Ronan leaning against the outside of their building.

“Locked out?” Adam asks. Ronan raises his hand and flashes Gansey’s keycard between two fingers. Then he opens the same hand and reveals a set of car keys.

“Wanna go for a drive?”

“I should probably get some sleep,” Adam hedges. Sleep sounds safe; a drive with Ronan sounds like it would crack open the life he’s barely holding together. He self-consciously wonders about Gansey-- does he know Ronan’s outside? Ronan nods and rolls his body off the wall.

“Responsible Adam Parrish,” Ronan says, like it’s an inside joke they have.

Adam goes inside and lays in his room and listens for the front door opening. He tries to wait for Ronan to get back, to make sure that he _does_ come back, but then suddenly it’s morning and his alarm’s going off and he has a mundane text from Gansey and Ronan is presumably intact. 

He doesn’t spare Adam a glance for the rest of the weekend, and Adam works on his thesis and tutors undergrads and does all his normal Adam things, safe as ever. 

Responsible Adam Parrish.

**March.**

The second time is different, because Adam and Gansey are friends now. They’re both graduating in May but Adam feels like he could be friends with Gansey forever-- there’s a certainty, a durability to their bond. They know each other’s secrets; it feels strange that just last fall Adam was scared that he could misstep, maybe just say the wrong thing, and lose it all in a moment. 

It’s also different because Adam is prepared for the way that Ronan’s shaved head looks like it wants his hands all over it.

The three of them hang out in the apartment, a Friday night celebration of warm weather and the end of midterms. Ronan makes fun of Harvard and puts his boots on the furniture and Adam likes it, likes it so much that he smiles at the ceiling for a moment. Ronan pins him with a look the second that Gansey steps out to restock on drinks.

“Your eyes are all--” Ronan moves his fingers in an abstract little wave.

“I have no idea what that means.”

“Eating at me,” Ronan clarifies, and Adam wonders just how drunk he is. Ronan’s body is sprawled loosely across Gansey’s recliner, but his eyes are searching and clear.

“‘Looking’ is the verb you’re after, I think.”

“Eating,” he insists, “You look hungry,” and Adam freezes. There’s a heavy second before Ronan starts to smile and says, “You’re kind of undressing me with your eyes, Parrish.” 

Adam scoffs and relaxes. That kind of hunger he can play off. Maybe Ronan caught a glimpse of something, sure-- maybe Adam got buzzed and careless staring at the hard lines of Ronan’s jaw. He’s certainly buzzed now, flushed and confident. He rolls his eyes and sips his beer.

Ronan pushes off the chair and walks over until he can whisper in Adam’s ear. “I’d let you,” he says softly, and then he snaps his teeth like he’s taking a big bite. He tosses his bottle into a recycling bin as he stalks back to the kitchen. 

Adam watches him unabashedly, watches the way his body moves around their space. He’s too tall for this shitty old apartment, Adam thinks. All out of proportion against the ‘70s cabinets and their tiny, low sink.

Gansey gets back not a minute later, and Adam forces his gaze to other places. For every look at Ronan, he looks elsewhere twice as long. Ronan’s eyes (he watches Gansey, looks out the window). Ronan’s mouth (he gets another beer, he looks down at his hands).

_He’d let me_ , Adam thinks, and it feels like an offering.

**April.**

The third time, Gansey isn’t there, and also it’s a week later. Adam’s sure there’s been a mistake, and there’s a tense moment when Ronan pokes his head into Gansey’s room and they both see it’s empty.

But then Ronan jerks his thumb at the tidy bed and says, “Family shit, right?” and Adam nods and Ronan walks into the living room and drops onto the couch with a filthy grin. “Fucking great,” he says. “I was in the neighborhood.” 

“The neighborhood of Massachusetts?” 

“I like the foliage,” Ronan shrugs, fake casual. 

“It’s April,” says Adam. 

Ronan rolls his eyes so hard his whole head moves. “Take the compliment, Parrish, Jesus.” And then just as Adam’s brain is trying to parse why it feels like they’re fighting, Ronan says more softly, “Let a guy make a gesture.” And then he gets up the couch and walks toward Adam.

Adam had thought about it. Pictured it. He didn’t even know that he had, had totally repressed his own memory of imagining… how it might feel, how it could unfold. Who would do what. Who would move first. 

But then the moment’s unfolding and Ronan moves towards him, staring down at his mouth, and Adam feels his back hit the wall of their living room and thinks, _oh, this is how it goes._

So, he’d pictured it. 

He lets his mouth open softly, lets Ronan lick his lip and tongue in slow, hot strokes. Eyes closed, Adam feels it acutely-- every press and retreat, the wet skim of Ronan’s warm mouth. He feels that he’s receiving, that he’s being penetrated by Ronan’s tongue; the idea makes him start to get hard. It makes him wonder if the rest of Ronan’s body moves like his tongue: controlled but confident, rolling with precise, unabashed intensity.

He might want to get fucked, if the rest of Ronan’s body moves like that. 

They kiss and kiss until Adam is panting and Ronan is holding Adam’s hips in his wide hands, moving them onto his own body in a slow, grinding rhythm of rolling thrusts. Adam feels Ronan pulling his body, using it, rubbing Adam’s thigh against his cock, and everything sharpens. Ronan’s mouth moves to his neck, scrapes a path to his ear and bites. Adam sighs and lets himself give in to being guided and moved.

“Ronan,” Adam says. “Fuck-- Ronan.” The name turns into a moan.

“I can’t believe you,” Ronan murmurs in response, squeezing Adam's body underneath his hands. “Jesus Mary,” he says, eyes moving over Adam’s chest. “Jesus, _fuck_.”

The ‘Mary’ makes Adam laugh, and he leans back against the wall and closes his eyes. Relaxes. Ronan’s tone is fiercely sincere and that makes Adam laugh more, happy adrenaline rattling in his ribcage. Ronan’s talking in a low voice, rambling into Adam’s hair and throat and cheek. “I want you so fucking bad,” he says. Reaches down to squeeze Adam’s cock through his jeans. “So goddamn bad.”

“And what do you want?” Adam asks, and he watches Ronan pull back to look at him. He looks at Adam and his face is so open that he’s Ronan, but he’s a Ronan that Adam’s never seen before: waiting, wanting. No door to slam, no gas pedal to push.

“Put your hand in my mouth,” Ronan says softly, “please,” and it’s a question underneath a command. 

Adam doesn’t move, at first, because he’s in charge now-- just breathes and feels the weight of his control. “Put your fingers-- “ and then he does, placing his hand on the front of Ronan’s chin and letting his middle finger tug on Ronan’s bottom lip. Ronan’s eyes close as Adam moves his fingers up, sliding his middle and ring fingers across the pink wetness of Ronan’s tongue. He feels soft and slick and pliant.

It’s like the kissing, but opposite. The world flips upside down in an instant. “I’m fucking you,” Adam says, nonsensical. He can’t tell if he’s talking about the present or future and he’s suddenly incredibly and totally hard, his cock throbbing. “I’m fucking your mouth,” he says, and Ronan moans around his fingers. 

They stay against the wall for a long moment, Adam holding Ronan with one hand around his waist and one hand at his mouth, pushing in and out. Ronan’s eyelashes are long and black and Adam watches him with fascination until he’s picturing his cum on Ronan’s face and his brain is just playing _I’d let you_ , _I’d let you_ , _I’d let you_ , on repeat.

“We should--” and that’s as far as Adam gets before he takes his hands off and out of Ronan and pushes him into his room and onto the bed.

“Responsible Parrish,” Ronan mutters, peeling off his clothes as Adam does the same. They strip in silence and then Ronan settles onto his back, waits for Adam to kick off his underwear and climb on top of him.

It’s heady, being above him and in awe, and the dominant thing inside Adam purrs. Ronan, all pale skin underneath him; Ronan, eyes huge and begging; Ronan, sucking on his thumb as Adam fits his fingertips underneath Ronan’s jaw. “I’m going to fill your mouth,” Adam whispers, grinding down gently. “I’m going to keep you full, like this, all fucking night. You’re gonna let me, right?”

“Yeah,” Ronan says, nodding. “Fuck, please--”

He’s never said anything like this out loud to anyone; he’s never even _heard_ someone say something like this out loud. There’s no time to hesitate, though, not when Ronan’s moaning and wrapping his legs tight around him. He presses Ronan into the bed, moves his thumb in and out, in and out of Ronan’s mouth. “You feel so wet,” he murmurs, watching. “You have a sexy fucking mouth. Can I-- can I?” he asks. “Can I put my cock in your mouth like this, just like this--” and Ronan nods desperately as Adam moves above him. He puts his knees on either side of Ronan’s head and grips his cock, watching as Ronan opens his mouth and waits for Adam to feed him his cock. 

Adam takes it in, looks at Ronan’s open face again. There’s a flush of sweat beading at his hairline, and Ronan’s brow is smooth and unfurrowed. He looks peaceful. He looks filthy. He’s holding his mouth open, soft and wanting.

“Fuck,” Adam breathes, holding his cock with his right hand and slowly pressing down into Ronan’s mouth, guiding just the head onto Ronan’s tongue. He moves slowly, so slowly, letting himself savor the sensation, how soft and good it feels, how it makes his balls tighten and his nipples get hard. Ronan’s hands are wrapped around the backs of Adam’s thighs and he raises his head off the pillow just slightly, sucking Adam’s cock softly with a satisfied sound. 

“Lynch," Adam says, and Ronan makes eye contact as he moves his head up and down as he sucks. “You look…” and it’s hard to finish sentences right now. “Better than I pictured,” Adam admits, and he thinks Ronan makes an eager sound. “I had no fucking idea how good you would be. I thought, the way you kissed me-- fuck,” he says, trying to clear his head. “I didn’t know if you would want this.” 

Ronan sucks harder, like he’s proving just how wrong Adam was. It’s wet and hot and Adam gives into thrusting down mouth, fucking Ronan's face. He puts one hand on the side of Ronan’s head and holds him there, rubs the short hair with this thumb.

“I want to fuck you,” he says, talking low and fast like he’s in a rush. He is-- until he comes, or until Ronan’s smart mouth isn’t full anymore. “I want to pin you down and see your face while I’m inside you. Watch you take it. Get stretched open and fucked. I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you, but I want to see you like that. Helpless and full. That’s what I want to do to you,” he murmurs, and the thrill of saying it out loud is making it hard not to come right there. 

He’s so beyond any expectations he had, so totally in foreign territory. There’s a tiny part of Adam’s brain saying _why are you making promises you have no idea how to keep?_ but some other part of him trusts Ronan, trusts him to listen to Adam’s fantasies and fears. 

Ronan’s hips are moving below and behind him, thrusting upwards in little desperate jerks as his plush lips move around Adam’s cock, spit running down his chin. He starts to squirm in earnest and Adam pulls out with a gasp, reaching behind him to fumble at Ronan’s cock and find it thick and wet. 

“You should,” Ronan pants, and his voice is rough and fast. “You can, you can fuck me, I want it, you can--” but just hearing him is too much. 

“I’m gonna come,” Adam says, and he strokes himself quick and hard onto Ronan’s face. “I’m sorry, I can’t stop,” he moans, and he can vaguely process Ronan opening his mouth wide as he orgasms and paints Ronan’s face in white.


End file.
